Therefore he who shows us God, Helpless hangs upon the tree, And the very
nails and spear, Tell of what God’s love must be.
Thou art God, no monarch thou, Throned in easy state to reign, Thou art God, whose arms of love, Aching, spent, the world sustain.
Thou art God, no monarch thou, Throned in easy state to reign, Thou art God, whose arms of love, Aching, spent, the world sustain.